Hot Bed


  • Lost Love

    Hot Bed

    The bed is on fire; the windows are closed
    I lay awake for hours,
    A thought of you never gets old
    A downer for tonight, I'll take some more of those
    And I'll fall asleep dreaming,
    I'll meet you back home

    The plot never thickens,
    But the drama always unfolds
    I've lost another week, month, and year's nights on whiskey and smoke
    So now I'll go home and spend another night with her wed,
    But I'd rather spend my time alone with you in my hot bed

    When sleep is another ambien,
    I loose count of how many days it's been,
    So why not just rest for a while longer?

    First love is like heroin,
    The first high never comes back again,
    I always want more,
    And I need it right quick

    Now the plot dosen't thicken
    but the drama always unfolds
    I've lost nights to those nights we spent on those roads
    So now I'll go home and spend another night with her wed,
    Just know I'd rather spend my time alone with you in my hot bed

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    mustascheman commented on Hot Bed


    Not sure if the main idea is about drugs or missing your significant other. They seem to intertwine throughout this poem. Not bad. A.T.

    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

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